


Brother

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: In A Better World [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: But really this is just the chance for Jon and Arya to finally talk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Feels, Gen, Mentions of Arya/Gendry and Jon/Dany, They haven't seen each other for like 7 years by this point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 22:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11999187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: After Bran and Sam delivered their combined news, Jon disappeared for awhile. Arya didn't blame him in the slightest, but she couldn't protect him if she didn't know where he was.(set post 7X07)





	Brother

**Author's Note:**

> This won't fit into the longer Arya/Gendry sequel fic I'm writing, so I'm posting it separately. It's set soon after Jon and his crew arrive back in King's Landing, because I can't imagine Bran and Sam would wait too long to deliver the news we heard them talk about at the end of 7X07. Note: I don't actively ship Jon/Dany, but I also don't mind it. I'm just trying to accurately portray how I feel it would come up in this particular conversation in this particular moment in time.

After Bran and Sam delivered their combined news, Jon disappeared for awhile.

Arya didn't blame him in the slightest, but she couldn't protect him if she didn't know where he was. He'd just become that much more valuable a commodity, and there were enough new people in Winterfell she couldn't be certain they were all worthy of trust.

Besides, they'd all had far too many years where brooding alone was the only option.

He wasn't in any of the most obvious hiding places in the castle, and Arya was about to check and see if one of the horses was missing when she passed the door to her old room. She slept there still - it meant something, that it had been kept empty and waiting for her return - and always made sure the heavy wooden door stayed securely shut.

Now, though, it was open just a crack.

Arya carefully pushed her way inside, shutting the door tight behind her on the off chance she'd been wrong about who was in her room. But there was no one going through her things, or an assassin waiting to end her life. There was just Jon, sitting on the floor against the wall at the foot of the bed, looking utterly exhausted. He opened his eyes when she came in, offering a smile so heartbroken it made her chest hurt. "I wasn't sure this was still your room."

"It is." Throat tight, she walked over and sat down next to him, pulling Needle out of her belt and resting it across her lap. "Sansa and I usually use the family crypts when we want to be alone."

Jon's expression turned bitter. "I'm not too fond of some of my dead family members at the moment."

And possibly not the living ones, either. "Forgive Bran," she said quietly. "He gets so lost in the visions now that I think he forgets other people don't live with them every day."

Jon let out a breath, the bitterness draining out of his features as if it had never been there. "There's nothing to forgive Bran for, or Sam.” His gaze went distant. “They weren’t even born when any of this happened.”

She reached out and touched his leg, needing him to come back from wherever he’d gone. “We can go into the crypts and let you yell at Aunt Lyanna and Father’s statues. And I’m sure there’s a wooden practice sword somewhere we can let you hit them with.”

It startled a laugh out of him that was only a little broken sounding, and when he smiled at her this time he looked more like himself than he had since Bran and Sam had started their story. He looked down at Needle. “Speaking of swords, I still say we need to get you one better suited to the swordswoman you are now.”

Her hand tightened reflexively around the hilt, reminding herself that Jon needed the distraction. “Needle has served me well.” It had saved her, in more ways than she could count, but that wasn’t a story Jon was ready for yet.

His expression was gentle. “And I’m grateful for that, but you do the blade no dishonor by taking up a new one. Needle was created for a child who had fought only in her imagination. The woman you are now is a match for anyone I’ve ever fought with.”

Arya narrowed her eyes slightly. “And I _became_ that with Needle.”

He smiled a little. “And what more could you become with a sword that reflects how much you’ve grown?” The flash of mischief in his eyes was her only warning. “Maybe I should simply tell your smith to make you one. I can’t imagine you refusing a gift from him.”

She glared at him even as her cheeks heated. “Do _not_ drag him into the middle of this,” she ordered, knowing even as she spoke that she wasn’t denying the claim.  It was best that Jon understood that, Gendry willing, her smith was going to be a part of her life for as long as they both still had one.

Still, that didn’t mean the topic was open for discussion. “Or I’m going to start teasing you about the women in _your_ life,” she warned him.

Jon winced, looking pained all over again, and she suddenly remembered the way he’d stared at the Dragon Queen in horror after he’d heard the news. As if being related to her was the worst thing he could—

Oh.

Guilt pricked like the tip of a blade. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He looked tired again, but thankfully not so heartbroken. “You didn’t know.” He let out a breath. “Another thing to be furious at them for.”

“If it helps at all, I think she was less upset by your blood tie than she was your claim to the Iron Throne.” That last part was the bit that worried Arya. It made Jon even more of a target than he already was, and though he was a brave, skilled fighter he didn’t have the kind of mind that saw knives in the shadows.

Jon, however, was too focused on other things right now to worry about that. “I don’t _want_ the Iron Throne!” he snapped, exasperation bubbling over. “I didn’t want to be King of the North. I _told_ them I didn’t want to be King in the North even as I agreed to the title. Why does everyone think I’d want to be ruler of even _more_ kingdoms?”

“You’d make a good King,” she said quietly. It was true, though she’d never force the role on him if he didn’t want it.

He sighed. “She’s a good Queen.”

Arya leaned forward slightly, recognizing a certain wistfulness in his tone. She heard it in her own voice sometimes, speaking of Gendry. “Who you’re related to.”

The embarrassment on his face was a vast improvement over the pain. “Her family has... different beliefs.” He seemed to catch himself, the pain returning almost immediately as he closed his eyes again. “They’re my family, too, aren’t they?”

“Not your only family,” Arya said firmly, taking his hand in hers. “Father still raised you, no matter who your birth father was. And there’s still just as much Stark blood in your veins as there ever was.”

“But there’s Targaryen blood, too.” He shook his head, the bitterness returning. “Aegon Targaryen. He couldn’t even give me a name that hadn’t already been used before.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m never calling you that, by the way,” she said firmly. “Ever. I refuse.”

The smile returned, weak but real. “Good.”

Arya’s chest tightened. “I wish I had a statue of Rhaegar I could let you break.”

“Me, too.” He seemed to realize something, the brief moment of humor replaced by a heartbreakingly hesitant expression. “Can I ask you not to start referring to me as ‘cousin?’ I know it’s accurate, but....”

She stared at him, stunned to hear something so utterly ridiculous coming out of his mouth. “You’re my _brother_ ,” she said fiercely, pulling him into a hug despite the awkward angle.  “You’ve always been my brother, and you’ll always be my brother. The name you call yourself or who your parents might be doesn’t change that.”

He hugged her back, hard, and she could feel a little bit of the tension ease out of him. “Thank you for coming home, little sister,” he said quietly, voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to meet you.”

She tightened her arms around him. “You’re here now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my [original fiction,](https://jennifferwardell.wixsite.com/mybooks) my [blog,](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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